Ride the wave

Am I on a cruise?

Because I think I might be on a large boat. I have all the symptoms of sea sickness: constant, unabating nausea. Swaying. The inability to calm my stomach if I am in an interior room. That cute sailor's hat I have taken to wearing.

The nausea, my god, the nausea, people.

It's awful.

Wah, I know. Lots of women would kill to be nauseous. I am sure there are a line of them outside the door right now. And I am sorry. But I would not wish this on my worst enemy.

It's the worst from 2-6 p.m. Every damn day. Several days running now, it's been fun because I have both woken up sick and gone to bed sick.

This.

Has.

Got.

To.

Stop.

And everyone tells me it will -- yay -- in about six more weeks -- boo.

I can't watch commercials about food. I can't read about food. I can't think about food. I can't smell food. I can eat food, but only a few various items, which change constantly from day to day. One day chicken tacos sound great. The next, gack. Nonononono.

You know it's bad when I turn down ice cream. And I have not wanted that in days.

Josh, he tries to be helpful. He encourages me to eat fruits and vegetables. He wants me to eat Super Foods. He sends me articles about Omega-3s and how great they are for the developing brain.

And all I can think about is Saltine crackers. And how they leave that terrible, sicky taste in your mouth like you have the flu. Which I guess, I kind of do. Just all the time.

All systems go

Houston, we do not have a problem.

I am ecstatic! My OB/GYN not only found the egg yolk and the fetal pole, she showed us a HEARTBEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!

The ER doc is apparently an idiot and should be chastised for scaring poor pregnant ladies with a blighted ovum diagnosis.

I am measuring dead on for 6w2d and I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.

She said the spotting was implantation -- which normally occurs anywhere from 5-7 weeks. The doc said it just burrowed in deeper and was attached posteriorly, but she had no trouble find the bean with the vaginal ultrasound.

The risk of miscarriage drops to less than 3 percent after you see the heartbeat, so we are breathing a little easier. Obviously something could still go wrong, but at least there is a baby in there right now and it's growing.

Great, great news for a Monday. And yes, it was the longest weekend of my life.

Here spot

Well, we have hit a roadblock.

I had some spotting on Wednesday night after pilates class, and again Thursday morning after pilates. I had taken it easy both times, but I knew it was too much of a coincidence to not be related.

After extensive internet research and a call to my OB nurse, who tells me to stop doing pilates and to rest. Feet up as much as possible. If it got worse or I had severe cramping, I should go to the ER.

So I was lying in bed with the computer around 4 p.m., watching the Cubs game while Lucy was being a cat and sleeping all curled up at the foot of the bed. I got up to pee and there was a lot of spotting when I wiped and it was definitely red, not brown.

Ack.

So I laid down and then went back about 5 min later and it was still there so I called Josh and told him to come right home because we're going to the ER. He sounded freaked and of course traffic at 4:30 in Bloomington is terrible, so it took about 15 min.

We got to the ER around 4:55 and then they put us in a room and we waited.

They ordered bloodwork and an ultrasound at 5:45. They took the blood and then told me they would need to wait for the ultrasound tech, but that they would be putting in a catheter to inflate the bladder.

Stop the train, sister. I know from my extensive internet research that most women just hold their pee for a while and that works so I asked if I could do that too. She said sure and then ordered me to drink even more water (I already had to pee) and that it would be about 15-20 minutes.

After 45 minutes of doing the pee dance, they were ready for us.

The tech started with an abdominal ultrasound, and of course she couldn't see anything. So then she said I could empty my bladder and we would do the internal.

I swear I peed for like 5 minutes and it was the single best pee experience of my life thus far.

Then. The. Vaginal. Ultrasound. Started.

Seriously, you have not lived life until you've had a dildo cam in your crotch.

There's a party in my vagina, and the invitations are in the mail. Didn't get yours yet, you say? It's very exclusive, there's a bouncer and a list.

so, the tech starts moving it around, taking pictures, Josh is asking what he's seeing, but she can't tell us anything. I ask if she can tell us if she sees a gestational sack or an egg sack and she says she can't tell us.

She does ask if I have had bloodwork with this pregnancy yet and I say no.

Then, we're done, and we go back to the room to wait for the results. After about an hour -- AN HOUR -- the doc comes back and says, "Well, we think we have a problem."

He says my beta is great (41,300) and my progesterone is right on as well (50.3) but that they can only see a gestational sac on the ultrasound, with nothing inside. It's called a blighted ovum and it happens in about 10 percent of pregnancies. He said they can't see a egg sac, they can't see a fetal pole and with my beta numbers we should be able to see all of that and possibly a heartbeat.

He tells me he consulted with the OB on duty, but that I need to see my doctor tomorrow to follow up.

Greeeaaaatttttt.

So I take it all pretty well, but there's this damn IV in my arm and I have to wait for someone to come take it out. Well, 15 minutes later, I start crying. Cue the nurse! She comes in and I am a sniffling mess and she feels bad and I feel stupid and I just want to leave.

Cry cry cry on the way home. Josh saying all the right things. It'll be fine, at least we know we can get pregnant, we'll get pregnant again, yada yada.

So I call my doctor's answering service. And the doc on call returns my call. She listens to my schpiel and says "I think it's WAY too early to be diagnosing blighted ovums. There is such a large range for beta numbers that it really doesn't mean anything. It could just still be a really early baby we can't see yet."

She wanted me to keep my appointment on Monday, take it easy over the weekend and see what happens.

Alllll righty. Mass confusion. Who to believe?

So I am currently lying in bed, resting. Oh and today? It's Josh's 30th birthday? And we're having 50 people here for a party tonight? And we were supposed to tell our parents?

So yeah, good luck with the bedrest.

This is going to be the single longest weekend of my life.

Dream a little dream

The queasiness, it is continuing.

Today, I am 5 weeks 4 days. That's almost six weeks. If you want to use the new math, that would put me in my sixth week. To me, six weeks sounds a lot better than five. Don't know why, but I feel more important saying, "I am six weeks pregnant."

Today, I told my pilates instructor. He was excited. The girls in my class found out too, because I didn't want to look like an asshat slacker when they were all doing the abs and I was just chillin' on the reformer like nobody's business.

They were all very excited -- there was much shrieking.

And they all asked how I was feeling. That's a popular question these days. My sister, bless her heart, calls to ask how I feel. Josh calls to ask how I feel. And my sister is the one who feels my pain. She knows the joy of car sickness. She knows how it feels so have the nausea in the pit of your stomach AND in your throat at the same time.

I tried to describe it to Josh as I laid on the couch when he got him.

"You know how you feel when you get off a spinny ride at a carnival?" I asked him. "Yeah, well that's how I feel every waking moment lately."

He was appropriately horrified for me.

It's not bad when I wake up. That of course is when I get up because I cannot sleep anymore. I, the queen of late-sleeping. The woman who works at home and rolls out of a sound sleep at 9 a.m. to the computer. The one who loves loves loves nothing more than to sleep til noon on weekends. Now? Out of bed like a shot at 7:30.

This morning I woke up at 5:30 after dreaming I was flying to Barbados for our trip in September. For some reason, Josh was not with me. So one minute I am waiting for an elevator and the next I realize I am on a plane that is climbing.

The pilot makes an announcement that we're going to make a steep climb and we're pulling a Top Gun maneuver. Then, suddenly, we getting closer to the water and I can see it outside the plane window and it's so vivid, this dream, that I can see the white caps on the waves.

Then we're skimming the water and then we're IN the water. Sinking. And I am freaking the shit out because I have this baby in me and I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THE PLANE.

I woke up pretty stressed and told Josh what it was about. Since I have vivid dreams all the time, he's used to it. He told me it was just a dream and told me to go back to sleep. Which I eventually did after peeing and then lying there for like an hour.

They say you have crazy dreams when you're pregnant and since I have crazy nutcase dreams all the time, I can't wait to see the shit that's going to happen for the next 7 1/2 months!

Little white lies

Happy Father's Day -- now let me sit here with you all day and lie, lie, lie my face off dad!

Yesterday, I went home for Father's Day. Josh, well Josh was in Vegas, probably looking at nekkid breasts as part of out friend Matt's bachelor party. So while he was ogling and gambling and eating and generally having a grand time doing things I can no longer do, I went home to my parents' house.

While there, I was feeling pretty smug. Not sick, not tired, feeling good. Allllll riiiight.

Then we all went to lunch with my sister, Beth, and her husband, Paul. Of course they know, but the parentals, not so much.

So during lunch, I had to get up to pee. Like I do all the damn time lately. When I excused myself, my sister said my mom immediately asked what was wrong with me. She said I was acting weird.

Let me state, for the record, I was not acting weird. I had to pee.

My sister, who told me earlier she had been avoiding my mother like the plague since my announcement so she would not accidentally say anything, froze. Now my sister? She is not good in a crisis.

Once, we were involved in a road rage situation when she was freaking out and crying while I calmly drove circles around our neighborhood. Granted, I was driving VERY fast and refused to stop, but she was of no help to me.

So she blurts out to my mother, "I don't know. I didn't feel good yesterday, Paul didn't feel good, Cookie (their dog) didn't either. Maybe we all got the same germs."

Ummm, OK.

After lunch my sister pulled me aside on the parking lot and told me, "Get the hell out of Dodge. I can't take this anymore."

Lucky for her, I was already leaving.

Only four more days until we can tell the families. Thank God, because I really want my mom to know in case I get sick and need her. There's no one you want more when you are puking your shit than your mommy.

Cool, cool tile

So I began yesterday with my face on the floor of the Hilton Garden Inn floor.

I had started off my day very normally. I went downstairs to get some breakfast and ordered scrambled egg whites, potatoes and a piece of sausage. I also grabbed some fruit and some yogurt for later.

So I come back to room and eat a few forkfuls of egg whites. Yummy! Then I cut the sausage in half. And the smell hits me. Oh. My. God. No no no. No sausage here. So I push it to the side. Maybe a potato. The same potatoes that just a mere four days ago brought me great joy. Chew, chew, spit. Ick. No.

And then I headed to the bathroom, where I spent the next five minutes trying to talk myself out of puking. Then I spent the next five minutes with my arms on the toilet and my head on my arms. And then I laid there for about 10 minutes until the wave had passed.

Then I went about my day. Even finished my chocolate milk and had a McDonalds fish sandwich for lunch.

All righty then. Thanks for the preview Morning Sickness. I am hoping it was a fluke. A terrible fluke.

So one week down, one to go until we tell the families. It was rather easy being in Toronto because we don't talk on the phone. But yesterday morning I really wish my mom already knew so I could get some sympathy. Josh was nice, he offered to come back from his training, but I declined. There's really nothing he can do to make it better anyway. And I should save those moments for when I am really puking. Hopefully, there won't e any of those moments.

But everything I have read says Morning Sickness (yes, it's a proper noun. If you treat is with respect, maybe it will treat you with respect) doesn't start until the sixth or seventh week. And that's not until next week or the week after.

So I should be nice and sick for out busy July, which includes a Tom Petty concert, a family reunion in Minneapolis, July Fourth, a big wedding, the All-Star Game in Detroit, a family vacation to Lake Geneva, our anniversary and the big move. Whew.

I am not sure which is worse: the constipation or the fear of Morning Sickness. As someone on a pregnancy message board put it, "Pooping is a privilege." Amen sister, amen. Testify.

Owwwww

So last night at about 2 a.m. I woke out of a sound sleep with a horrid, burning sensation right above my pubic bone. We're talking pretty out-of-the-ordinary pain for me.

I got up and went to the bathroom -- everything was normal.

So I came back to bed, didn't wake Josh and promptly fell back asleep two minutes later.

When I woke up this morning, everything was fine.

So that's weird. Of course a Google search turned up fascinating reading. Implantation in the cervix? Ectopic pregnancy? Miscarriage? Awesome. Sign me up.

But nothing bad better happen because I have been really good. Eating healthy, not drinking, trying to be less stressed about work, not drinking. Did I mention I am not drinking?

Last night we met a gazillion of Josh's coworkers out after training at the BierMarket in downtown Toronto. Since I really didn't want to draw attention to myself, I asked for a non-alcoholic beer. Brilliant! So the waitress brought the bottle and no one was the wiser. It's very easy to deceive people. Although we will eventually have to tell the one friend we were sitting with that the beer was NA. Would hate for him to think I was boozin’ with the bab-ay.

Where are all the moose?

Oh, Canada.

And those are the only words I know to the Canadian national anthem, but here we are north of the border in Toronto.

Josh had some training so I came along and we made a little extended trip out of it. We even went to Niagara Falls and played cheesy tourists. We have pictures, oh, we have pictures. I shall link to them when Josh gets them in a little slide show. Until then, you have to make do with this.



The embryo's first trip out of the country. How exciting.

Saturday morning, we drove to Toronto. We stopped about four times so I could pee. This from the woman of the previously steel bladder. I have been known to go an entire day without peeing. That, my friends, is a thing of the past.

Upon arriving in Toronto, we went out for a lovely steak dinner (I had salmon) with no wine. Dinner without wine is just not worth eating. It's sad, really.

Then we went to a nice place called the Beer Bistro. That's where I got really crazy and ordered a Cranberry and Soda. With a lime. Josh, yeah he had beer. But Toronto bars are very nice in that people can't smoke inside them. Lovely.

Then we watched "The Beach" and fell asleep.

Sunday was our jaunt to Niagara Falls.

Fun times. We even got rain coats and took the "Tour Behind the Falls." Ooooooh. Lookee. Water. Lots of water. That makes me want to pee.

So far, that's about it. The peeing. This morning I felt slightly icky and again this afternoon while I was dutifully eating my yogurt. It quickly passed. This of course makes me nervous. Why aren't I sick? Shouldn't I be puking? I want to puke, damnit. I want to be like everyone else.

But that's about it.

I keep looking at myself in the mirror, trying to see if the rack is getting bigger. The bra feels slightly tighter today, but that could be in my head.

Oh and I took another test today. Still positive. That's Test No. 3. Josh told me to stop, but I am an addict.

One down

So my sister, Beth, decided to drop an impromptu visit on us today. Her husband was in Chicago for the Red Sox/Cubs game and since it was her last day of teaching this year, she decided to come on down.

What to do, what to do?

Sister coming. Can't lie. Can't drink. Going out to bars. Oh no.

Sooooooo, we told her.

When she first arrived, she told me my skin looked really good. I almost puked. How the hell could she see something like this from my skin? But I recovered nicely and said thanks, blah blah, would you like a lemonade?

So the three of us are sitting in the living room and she announces she wants to go shopping at Express. So before we get up to leave I kick Josh, so he will stop typing and pay attention and my sister sees this and looks at me like, "whaaaaaa?"

So I kind of laugh and say, "So. Um. We have something to tell you..."

PAUSE.

She jumps off the chair and yells "OHMYGOD ARE YOU PREGNANT?"

I say yes and start to laugh and she runs over and hugs us both and keeps saying, "Are you kidding?" At one point I looked at her and said, "Yeah, I'm shitting you. Of course we're not kidding."

Then we went shopping.

But we swore her to secrecy. No telling the families. We told her she's got to keep it to herself until Josh's birthday party, which is June 24. A whole two weeks away. Ha -- now she has a secret, although we also did tell her husband, Paul, who was also very excited.

Plus one

YAY!

Last night before I went to bed, I promised myself that if my temp went to 98.3, I could test. So when I woke up this morning, it was 98.3! I literally jumped out of bed...

Tested and it came up with a line right away -- I mean like less than a minute. I ran back to the bedroom (it was 8 a.m.) and poked Josh and looked at him with a huge smile. He opens one eye and says "What?" and I look at him and don't say anything except the huge smile. And he says "What - oh my god are you pregnant?" And I said "YES!" and I was so excited and he kissed me and he was really excited and then we stayed in bed talking about it for like 45 minutes.

I didn't really have any symptoms. I had a weird metallic taste in my mouth one day and then had some random sensations of pulling, but not really cramping, but really it was nothing major at all. Just a here and there "oh that's weird" kind of thing. My test came up with a second line right away -- within 30 seconds.

We're not going to tell anyone for a while. We're going to tell our parents and the two siblings in a few weeks, but we're not telling extended family or friends until after the three-month mark.

That means it's going to be a loooooong summer. No drinking, lots of lying about why I am not drinking, lots of pretending I am drinking. Maybe I can cover it by eating sushi and soft cheese. Every day. And smoking. I am sure that's fine right? It'll throw people off the scent for sure!

What an exciting day.

What a scary day.

Holy shit -- we're having a BABY!

Teetotaling

So I am filling in for my friend Erin at work this week while she gets hitched in Iowa. Which is very exciting -- she is the friend that we went to Vegas for the pre-ception for. Nice grammar, hey?

So while she is gone, I have taken on half her workload. And it sucks -- not the workload, but the not having Erin to IM all day and make snarky comments.

So that blows.

It also means that since I have the extra work, I can't spend all day obsessing over my chart. Which is a very beautiful chart. A high-temperature chart. A "I really want to take a test but I must be a grown up and wait" chart.

Today I am 11 DPO. That means "days post ovulation." Which means I could either be getting ready to end this cycle...or that I am pregnant. Which is fun. You never know until the last second!

This weekend, we attended a wedding. It was a buffet. I do not enjoy wedding buffets and said buffet was not very good. The only thing that would have made it tolerable was alcohol. Unfortunately, I should not drink alcohol. You know, in case I am carrying the second Messiah and I don't want to get it drunk or anything. The wrath of God and all that.

So Josh got to drink. And I got to fool people.

I ordered a cranberry and 7-Up with a lime. And sure as shit, it looks JUST LIKE a cran-vodka. So I sucked down about four of those. People at the table, also drunkards, remarked that we had been drinking since 3:30 (it was about 8:30) and that we should be careful driving. Said they heard something about a road block to check for drunk drivers.

Thanks for the heads up buddy, wow, we should really try to avoid that.

I am getting good at the sneaky non-consumption of alcohol. Get a glass of wine, let it sit there for awhile. Pour it out in little bits while walking around. Order drinks that LOOK like drinks. When asked why not drinking, reply, "Oooooooo boy. I was way overserved last night. Not feeling well this morning."

It's frighteningly easy. Hopefully this weekend I will know for sure and can stop this silly nonsense and have a beer already. But you never know. Stranger things have happened...

Eggs for breakfast

I did it, I did it, I did it.

That's supposed to be in a sing-songy little voice.

I.

Actualy.

Ovulated.

All on my own. No help, thank you very much. It happened on CD 35. Today is CD 39. So now I guess we sit around and wait and see what happens.

Isn't this fun?